Free Encore by Monique Raphel High Page A

Marguerite’s family. It must be difficult for the Imperial Family. The Kussovs are old court retainers of the highest aristocracy, but Princess Marguerite is the niece of the provincial governor of the Ukraine. A fine stew!”
    â€œYou know more about this than I do,” the girl replied, shrugging. “At school we hear virtually nothing intriguing.”
    â€œI remember what it’s like. Well, this is the crux of the issue: Count Boris claims that the marriage was annulled because he had not been properly informed of her previous bout with mental illness, and that insanity was starting to manifest itself during the wedding trip. Hence, he claims that the Tumarkins duped him on purpose. They, on the other hand, say that he abandoned her on their honeymoon without consummating the marriage, and that, therefore, the annulment was procured on their behalf. All these humiliating details have been brought to the surface because of the matter of the dowry. If indeed he married her in good faith and discovered that she was not in total possession of her faculties, then he should retain the money. But if she was the wronged party, then naturally he must return it in full. The Tzar, I’m told, thinks that Count Boris should keep half. I presume the judge will agree with this settlement. That way, nobody comes out stronger than anybody else.”
    Natalia raised her fine, arched brows. “She was a fool to subject herself to marriage in the first place. She could have used her income to travel—to see the world, to enhance her education. Now what will become of her? Or is she really—debilitated?” She motioned to her forehead.
    â€œI wouldn’t have the slightest idea. There must be a grain of truth in it somewhere, or Count Boris wouldn’t have the temerity to state it. But—do you know?—they say she’s already engaged again—to someone else, of course. To a Prussian man, Baron von Baylen—he’s first secretary at the German embassy. Clearly her parents want to speed up this wedding so that people here will forget the other scandal. I’ve never formally met the woman, but I saw her once at Cubat with Count Boris, before their marriage—if one can call it that. She’s a rather nondescript little person, but not really bad looking. He resembled a peacock next to a moorhen. He is splendid, isn’t he? But not a nice man.”
    Natalia grinned. “Oh? That makes him distinctly more interesting. Do you think either of them will stay in the city after this? I mean—wouldn’t you think each of them would want to escape for a little while before coming back to court and everything?”
    â€œCount Boris is planning to be in Paris for the art exhibition. In the meantime, I don’t believe he’ll go out of his way to appear at functions attended by the Tzar and Tzarina! Alexandra, especially, is very straight-laced, as was her grandmother, Queen Victoria.”
    Natalia yawned. Queen Victoria was definitely not a pet subject of hers.
    On Palm Sunday, the ballet school held its annual performance at the Mikhailovsky Theatre. Natalia had the most important role of the evening, although she had not been told that her masters intended to judge that very night whether she should be allowed to complete her schooling the following year, in May 1907, rather than a year later with the other girls in her class. She was sixteen now and would be young if they granted her this rare permission. Varvara Ivanovna, the school directress, was doubtful. She kept her girls under strict supervision and held praises at bay. Exceptions made her acutely uncomfortable, and she did not want little Oblonova to lose her levelheadedness.
    Natalia was to dance Aspitchia in an abbreviated version of The Daughter of Pharaoh, the ballet that had marked the start of Marius Petipa’s stint as choreographer of the Imperial Ballet. This ballet had also turned back the